


Touch

by HotaruGFC (JaclynGFC)



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, No Sex, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaclynGFC/pseuds/HotaruGFC
Summary: Charlotte had always tried to stand on her own. In the end, she realized she had closed herself off. He had been telling her for years that doing so was a bad idea. She didn't quite realize how bad it was until now.
Relationships: Charlotte Roselei/Yami Sukehiro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 130





	Touch

Who knew it would be like this? Had anyone told her before, she would not have believed them. She would not have thought herself so starved, so much in need.  
And yet here she was, tears welling in her eyes at the simple embrace. 

She curled her head into his chest as the tears began to fall, unwilling to have others see them. She pressed her hands into him against the strong muscles beneath the thin shirt he wore. 

An accident, she would call it later, an embrace caused by an instinct to protect as a bit of rubble fell from a damaged building. But for now, she melted into him, let his powerful arms wrap around her.

She never knew how much she needed the feeling. She never wanted it to end. 

"Are you alright?" His deep voice was more gentle than she had ever heard it before. He rubbed her back and squeezed her more tightly. 

A sob escaped her throat, a high-pitched whimper. 

Her entire body trembled. She wanted more. 

He brushed her cheek and tilted her face to his, revealing her glistening eyes and the tracts of salty tears down her cheeks. His thumb wiped away one tear as it fell. 

She leaned into the touch and another whimper escaped her throat. More tears fell as she closed her eyes. Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she buried her face into his chest once more. Arms tightening around her again, she let the stream of tears fall. 

She could not remember the last time she had been touched--not just like this, but at all. So long, she lived within her isolation, convinced she needed no one. For years, he had tried convincing her to break out, to open up. For years she ignored him, self-assured in her strength, in her ability to stand on her own. 

But now she stood there, crying, supported by his solidness, his strength. She did not know how long they stood there together before she regained her senses. When she pushed away from him, her eyes were dry though her cheeks were streaked with salt and his shirt was wet with her tears. 

"I'm sorry." She could not look at him. She shifted a half-step back, but his hands rested on her shoulders, maintaining the contact.

"Charlotte, when is the last time you had a hug?" His voice was low, quiet, a whisper. When she looked up at him, his face was as unreadable as ever. 

A flurry of emotions welled within her, emotions she could not parse at the moment as she looked at his inscrutable face. She could never tell what he was thinking. She could not read the subtleties she hoped he had. She could never tell if he was serious or joking or if he even knew what was going on half the time.

Now she wondered if the question had been a mild jab at her. 

No, she told herself. Couldn't be. She had never heard him whisper like that before. 

A voice called out to him and he turned away. His hands still rested on her shoulders, but now with his attention elsewhere, she moved away, turning her back on him to go about her own business. 

***

He had acted on instinct. He had sensed the collapse and pulled her from imminent danger. He shielded her with his own body as the building fell, taking the brunt of the small bits of shrapnel flying toward them. He hadn't meant to grab her as he did. He hadn't meant to force her into the embrace. He only wanted to protect her. He only acted on instinct.

"Are you alright?" He asked, wondering if she had been hit by any of the falling structure he had tried to shield her from. The tiny whimper which came from her made forced him to wonder if the question meant more.

She was rigid and stiff at first, shocked at the turn of events, he was sure. But she curled into him after a moment, collapsing against him, letting him carry all of her weight. She felt almost like a rag doll in his arms. Or she should have had her body not shook so. She sobbed a sound he had never imagined he would hear. But his arms tightened again around her. Instinctually. 

She looked up at him and his eyes widened as he saw her face dotted with tears. He reached up and brushed her cheek. He would have brushed the tears from both sides, had he been able to bring himself to release her. But she seemed too limp, too fragile to simply let go and expect her to stand on her own. So one hand on one cheek to remove her some of her tears. She leaned into the touch, which only brought more tears to bear. She pressed her forehead into his chest and her arms encircled him, trembling.

Something was wrong, or at least different. He couldn't quite tell which. Was this a side of her kept hidden from everyone? Had recent events messed with her mind or her emotions? Was it a little of both? 

He had never expected, never imagined Charlotte to be so open and unguarded. So vulnerable. Not ever again anyway.

A wet spot was spreading on his chest as he held her. He tried to stroke her back, only to be met by the cold hard metal of her breastplate. He wasn't exactly sure how, but he wanted to soothe her as she sobbed against him. 

So he kept holding her.

Eventually, the shuddering sobs which rocked through her body slowed and then subsided. As did her whimpering, and eventually her tears. Her breathing grew more steady and she shifted her weight away from him. She glanced up at him before looking to the ground next to them. 

"I'm sorry."

Sorry for what? He wondered. Sorry for giving in to her sadness? Sorry for showing she was more than just a fighting machine? Did she consider her behavior shameful?  
Unbecoming? 

Despite the regained composure and the unneeded apology, she had not fully retreated from his touch. Something in how she continued to hold him, to lean into him ever so slightly told him a story she probably hadn't realized she was telling. She needed this interaction; she craved it. 

"Charlotte, when was the last time you had a hug?" He spoke softly. For her sake, he didn't want to be overheard, or to have the question be misconstrued. Her shocked expression spoke volumes. Her eyes glistened with tears again, but she blinked and they were gone. Her cheeks grew red--not an uncommon sight, but mixed in with all of the other emotions flashing on her features, he didn't quite know what to make of it.

He opened his mouth to say something else when he heard his name echo through the debris field caused by the building collapse. He turned to the sound for a moment.

When he turned back to where she had been, she had vanished, and his thought died on his lips.


End file.
